It's a good day for a Guinness

Either I am sick or, unbeknownst to me, I drank an entire bottle of gin last night. I feel like someone was playing drums on my head while I was sleeping. There are ten pound weights hanging off every one of my eyelashes. Also, I had a crazy person dream where I was acting in a play with Logan from Veronica Mars, the boy I liked in high school and Phillip. And the boy I liked in high school totally did not care that I had makeout scenes with Logan, which irritated me to NO END, but I ended up going home with Phillip which is good, because I am married to him and I wouldn't want to dream-cheat.

I have absolutely no interest in psychoanalyzing that dream. Especially on a day when my brain feels like Jell-O.

You know what is good? Sugar-free fat-free Jell-O Chocolate Fudge pudding. I highly recommend it for those of you contemplating a carb-free lifestyle but are terrified of facing a world without chocolate creaminess. Fear not, the geniuses at Jell-O have come to your aid and delivered to the world about 27 flavors of sugar-free fat-free pudding that sets in five minutes. FIVE. Of course, this does not matter when, the day after you have finally attained the weight you claimed to the state government on your driver's license, you eat your weight in Red Robin french fries. And you know what? They didn't even taste good. How is that possible? But I kept eating them hoping that one of them- just one!- would taste like the deep-fried Ranch-drenched goodness that I remembered so fondly.

Maybe it wasn't that someone was playing drums, maybe someone was squeezing my head in a vise. In case the universe is interested, I think it's terrifically unfair to have a hangover without first going through the drinking part.

Speaking of drinking, I went to a church retreat this weekend and learned a fabulous new poem:

Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There's laughter, dancing and good red wine.
At least I've always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!

Hilaire Belloc

That last line means: Let us bless the Lord!

I KNEW I was called to be a Catholic! It's Awesome To Be Catholic Part II: The Archbishop said that us good Seattle Catholics may eat meat on Friday in honor of St. Patrick. Awesome.

And speaking of St. Patrick, this half-awake post is dedicated to Lee, who ensured that I will not spend my entire week suffering CSS-induced fits and who only requested my presence at his St. Patrick's Day party on Friday as reward. Isn't that nice? Of course, I'm going to have to partake of the Guinness, which makes my eyes roll back just thinking about it.